Yesterday was a treatment day at Duke, so I had some blood drawn, saw the doctor and took on another charge of Pralatrexate. This is the drug that has a strong tendency to cause sores in the mouth, throat or esophagus, usually after about 4 to 5 days. It is a condition known as mucositis and can be quite severe. Sometimes the patient is suffering such pain and discomfort that it is the basis for delaying further treatment until it subsides. During Cycle 1, I received two consecutive weekly infusions of Pralatrexate and had only minor throat irritation that lasted only 2 or 3 days. With Cycle 2, I received one treatment last week, another yesterday and my third is scheduled next Tuesday. The doctor asked how my mouth was after last week's treatment and I was pleased to report that I have had absolutely no reaction at all, not one hint of a sore anywhere. She said she was glad to hear that. I responded that I was elated.
Numerous times I have commented here about how well I am responding to these treatments and how, with the exception of some fatigue, I have been able to avoid most of the side effects normally associated with chemotherapy. I marvel each day at how well I feel. I'm certainly not feeling "normal" but I'm not that awfully far away from the old me. To be honest, I have often thought that perhaps I should not be discussing how well things are going here on my blog. I was concerned that another cancer patient might read about it and feel even worse because they are struggling and not doing as well as I am. But then I decided that I might actually be an encouragement to others and be able to give them hope. No where is it written that everyone being treated for cancer with chemotherapy and/or radiation must suffer and endure a poor quality of life. That simply is not the case and I am living proof. So why am I able to avoid the perils that are experienced by so many? No one really knows the answer to that. The drugs administered in chemotherapy effect different people in different ways. I know of people who have had terrible reactions to Pralatrexate and Vincristine, two of the drugs that I receive. I have had seemingly no reactions at all to either of them. Part of it is body chemistry and how your particular body responds to various foreign substances. Beyond that I believe that your psychological makeup plays a big role. I am a fighter by nature (not literally) and tend to confront most things head on. I am also an optimist and am inclined to look for the positive side of things. And last, but by no means least, a am a man of great faith. I know that my Heavenly Father loves me and will be with me through any of the trials and tribulations that this life can throw at me. So if you add all of that together, the strength of my body, the strength of my outlook and the strength of my faith in my Lord and Savior, I believe you have most of the answer as to why I am doing so well. It is my hope that I may be an encouragement to others who are facing their own trials or struggles, whether it be cancer or some other very troublesome situation.
Certainly there is no guarantee that the future will be the same as the past, but I definitely like the way the trend line is going :-)
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Family.
This morning in church the sermon was about family, and over the past several days my family has been on my mind more often than usual. A diagnosis of cancer initiates a dizzying emotional odyssey of ups and downs, highs and lows and everywhere in between. It impacts not only the patient but the rest of the family too. Husband, wife, brother, sister, father, mother, grandfather, grandmother. For most of us our immediate family is the source of our most cherished and intimate emotional bonds. Our joys and our sorrows, our highs and our lows, our sickness and our health; all these are shared and felt by the other members of our family. What hurts one hurts all.
Back on June 6th of this year I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Hodgkin's T-Cell Lymphoma, an aggressive and rare form of cancer, with a lousy prognosis. It was like getting hit hard in the gut. It knocked all of the wind out of me and I went down hard. My emotions were immediately consumed with fear and apprehension, and my mind was filled with questions and the possible implications of what I had just heard. My world had been instantly turned upside down. Somehow I retained my outward composure, in spite of what was going on inside. Sitting right next to me, and hearing those same words, was my wife and soul mate of 44 years, Holly. Unquestionably, her thoughts and emotions were on a similar trajectory to mine. That evening we called our son Adam and daughter Jill with the news. Their daddy was in serious trouble, although we did word it somewhat more tactfully than that. They in turn told their spouses, and by bedtime, 6 lives had been shoved way off course. And then there are also 6 grandchildren ranging in age from 2 months to 11 years.
I am the patient and it is my body that has been invaded by an unwelcome and threatening intruder. I am the one blogging about my experience as a form of therapy. I am the one who gets put on prayer lists and asked how I am doing physically and emotionally. I am the one getting most of the cards and letters in the mail. But Holly and Adam and Annie and Jill and Jeff are also having to go through their own process of emotional and spiritual adjustment, and work out their individual coping mechanisms. One significant factor in their adjusting is how I am dealing with the situation. In all honesty and sincerity and can say that I am doing very well, retaining my usual optimistic view, and believing strongly that my medical team and God Almighty will give me victory over my cancer. Having completed almost 2 seven week cycles of chemotherapy, I can safely say that I am enduring the therapy with almost no side effects other than fatigue. So what my family sees is a pretty positive outlook from a 6'6" 250# man, who looks more like the doctor than the patient. I just tire more quickly and sneak away for a nap more often.
But I worry about each of my family members and pray for them often. They can only draw so much strength and confidence from my demeanor. So I can only trust that God will be with each of them and give them peace with where we are and where we are going. I especially pray for Holly, as she is the primary caregiver, and is having to shoulder an increasing load. During the initial phase of my stem cell transplant, when we will be living in Durham, I pray that God will give her the strength and ability to handle all that will be required of her. My reading tells me that she will need help and support from others, and I pray that the Lord will provide all that is required. I also pray that the Lord will continue to bless me with an amazing ability to withstand the rigors of my treatments. I accept that there are probably some difficult and unpleasant days ahead, but with God's help I know that they will pass and I will be on the road to recovery in His time.
For those prayer warriors that I know I have out there, you should now have a good list of specific needs to work with. And thank you for your faithfulness. For those of you who may doubt the power of prayer, pray for belief.
Back on June 6th of this year I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Hodgkin's T-Cell Lymphoma, an aggressive and rare form of cancer, with a lousy prognosis. It was like getting hit hard in the gut. It knocked all of the wind out of me and I went down hard. My emotions were immediately consumed with fear and apprehension, and my mind was filled with questions and the possible implications of what I had just heard. My world had been instantly turned upside down. Somehow I retained my outward composure, in spite of what was going on inside. Sitting right next to me, and hearing those same words, was my wife and soul mate of 44 years, Holly. Unquestionably, her thoughts and emotions were on a similar trajectory to mine. That evening we called our son Adam and daughter Jill with the news. Their daddy was in serious trouble, although we did word it somewhat more tactfully than that. They in turn told their spouses, and by bedtime, 6 lives had been shoved way off course. And then there are also 6 grandchildren ranging in age from 2 months to 11 years.
I am the patient and it is my body that has been invaded by an unwelcome and threatening intruder. I am the one blogging about my experience as a form of therapy. I am the one who gets put on prayer lists and asked how I am doing physically and emotionally. I am the one getting most of the cards and letters in the mail. But Holly and Adam and Annie and Jill and Jeff are also having to go through their own process of emotional and spiritual adjustment, and work out their individual coping mechanisms. One significant factor in their adjusting is how I am dealing with the situation. In all honesty and sincerity and can say that I am doing very well, retaining my usual optimistic view, and believing strongly that my medical team and God Almighty will give me victory over my cancer. Having completed almost 2 seven week cycles of chemotherapy, I can safely say that I am enduring the therapy with almost no side effects other than fatigue. So what my family sees is a pretty positive outlook from a 6'6" 250# man, who looks more like the doctor than the patient. I just tire more quickly and sneak away for a nap more often.
But I worry about each of my family members and pray for them often. They can only draw so much strength and confidence from my demeanor. So I can only trust that God will be with each of them and give them peace with where we are and where we are going. I especially pray for Holly, as she is the primary caregiver, and is having to shoulder an increasing load. During the initial phase of my stem cell transplant, when we will be living in Durham, I pray that God will give her the strength and ability to handle all that will be required of her. My reading tells me that she will need help and support from others, and I pray that the Lord will provide all that is required. I also pray that the Lord will continue to bless me with an amazing ability to withstand the rigors of my treatments. I accept that there are probably some difficult and unpleasant days ahead, but with God's help I know that they will pass and I will be on the road to recovery in His time.
For those prayer warriors that I know I have out there, you should now have a good list of specific needs to work with. And thank you for your faithfulness. For those of you who may doubt the power of prayer, pray for belief.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Duke Cancer Center.
Duke Cancer Center
Durham, North Carolina
My home away from home. Where I take my cancer to have it eradicated.
The road ahead.
Back in early July we made a trip up to Duke and met with Dr. Horwitz and his medical team at the Adult Bone Marrow Transplant center. The assessment at that meeting determined that I would be a candidate for what is called an autologus stem cell transplant. A bone marrow transplant and a stem cell transplant are two different terms describing the same process. An autologus transplant uses the patients' own stem cells and an allogenic transplant involves using donor cells. One of the big advantages of an autologus transplant is that the body is much less likely to reject the transplant because the cells being transplanted are it's own. So hearing that I would be able to have an auto transplant was indeed welcome news. We were given a fairly detailed briefing on what a stem cell transplant entails. To say that it is complex and complicated is a gross understatement. Our daughter Jill, who is now a stay at home mom with three children, spent a year as an RN in the Pediatric Bone Marrow Transplant unit at Duke, and has been an invaluable resource to us in understanding what things mean and what is involved. She describes a transplant as "pushing the reset button on your immune system". If only it were that simple.
Most of my posts up until now have dealt with my chemotherapy treatments, with a few digressions into genealogy and visits to the beach with the family. I am bringing up the subject of stem cell transplant because in about 4 more weeks I will be finishing a key check point in my chemotherapy treatment protocol and will have a CT scan, a bone marrow biopsy and blood tests to enable my oncologist, Dr. Beaven, to "restage" of my cancer. Depending on the results of those tests, I will either be scheduled for 14 more weeks (2 cycles) of chemotherapy, or, if we have achieved the hoped for word "remission", I will then be transferred to the BMT center to begin the transplant process. Regardless of whether remission is achieved at the end of 2 cycles, or 4 or 6, I will then undergo a stem cell transplant. The only reason for not getting a transplant would be if the cancer is not responding and is in fact getting worse. But the latter is not even an option for our consideration. Being a stubborn fighter with an iron clad constitution and a strong faith in The Most High God, coupled with the support and prayers of a large group of friends and family, the end result is We're Going To Beat This.
The transplant process will start shortly after the remission determination. While the overall transplant process will be spread over 9 to 12 months, the first 2 months are the most intense and potentially problematic. Within the first couple of weeks I will be admitted to the hospital at Duke for the actual transplant and remain an inpatient for about a week to 10 days. I will then be dismissed but will have to make daily visits to the clinic for checkups and medications. During this time, 6/8 weeks, we will actually be living in an apartment near Duke, to facilitate our frequent visits. After that we will be able to return home but will be frequent visitors in Durham for several months.
The coming transition from chemotherapy to transplant is but one more phase on the emotional roller coaster ride of being a cancer patient, and the wife of a cancer patient, and the son or daughter, or a friend. While on the one hand we are dealing with this fight and all that it entails one day at a time, a certain amount of thought and planning must still be invested in what lies ahead. Chemotherapy was a scary thing before I started getting treatments, but now that I am traveling down that road it is not nearly so worrisome or daunting. Now a stem cell transplant is on the horizon, and with that thought comes fears and worries about the unknown path that lies ahead. But I know that many, many, many other people, just like me, have gone through transplants and are now living cancer free lives as a result. So if they can do it, so can I. And most importantly I know that my God will be with me every step of the way, so I have nothing to fear.
Some might ask why a transplant is required if the chemotherapy treatments have gotten the cancer into remission. A large part of the answer lies with the type of lymphoma that I have. Non-Hodgkin's Peripheral T-Cell Lymphoma NOS (Not Otherwise Specified) is a very aggressive form of the disease that is difficult to get into remission and, once in remission, it has an unacceptably high rate of recurrence. The clinical trial that I am participating in is a research study targeted at improving the rate of achieving remission. Remission really means "no signs" of the cancer, but is not a guarantee that there are not a few stray cancer cells still hiding out somewhere, waiting to cause trouble later. The transplant process involves giving high dose chemotherapy early on, which is far more destructive than regular chemo, and greatly improves the chances that any remaining cancer cells are destroyed. It still is not a guarantee but it does improve the odds of not having a recurrence. Since my form of lymphoma is so rare, only 340 cases last year worldwide, the experience with this specific type is very limited and the treatment protocol is not as refined as it someday will be. So we are simply trying to hedge our bets and go with the combination of treatments that will provide us the best odds in the longer term. My body is still strong, and that coupled with my faith and my team of prayer warriors, will see me through this ordeal.
This post is longer than most, but there is a lot to consider as we look at what is before us in the coming months. It is my hope that, in addition to keeping you up-to-date on my status, this may be helpful to others who may be on the same journey that I am on. This blog website gives me the ability to see where the viewers are from, and I see regular visits internationally, particularly from Russia. If I can somehow be a resource to help someone better cope with their own situation, I will consider that a blessing. That is why I have added a section with links to other blogs and informational websites. And if my faith and my belief in the power of God Almighty can help others learn to lean on Him, I will feel even more blessed.
Most of my posts up until now have dealt with my chemotherapy treatments, with a few digressions into genealogy and visits to the beach with the family. I am bringing up the subject of stem cell transplant because in about 4 more weeks I will be finishing a key check point in my chemotherapy treatment protocol and will have a CT scan, a bone marrow biopsy and blood tests to enable my oncologist, Dr. Beaven, to "restage" of my cancer. Depending on the results of those tests, I will either be scheduled for 14 more weeks (2 cycles) of chemotherapy, or, if we have achieved the hoped for word "remission", I will then be transferred to the BMT center to begin the transplant process. Regardless of whether remission is achieved at the end of 2 cycles, or 4 or 6, I will then undergo a stem cell transplant. The only reason for not getting a transplant would be if the cancer is not responding and is in fact getting worse. But the latter is not even an option for our consideration. Being a stubborn fighter with an iron clad constitution and a strong faith in The Most High God, coupled with the support and prayers of a large group of friends and family, the end result is We're Going To Beat This.
The transplant process will start shortly after the remission determination. While the overall transplant process will be spread over 9 to 12 months, the first 2 months are the most intense and potentially problematic. Within the first couple of weeks I will be admitted to the hospital at Duke for the actual transplant and remain an inpatient for about a week to 10 days. I will then be dismissed but will have to make daily visits to the clinic for checkups and medications. During this time, 6/8 weeks, we will actually be living in an apartment near Duke, to facilitate our frequent visits. After that we will be able to return home but will be frequent visitors in Durham for several months.
The coming transition from chemotherapy to transplant is but one more phase on the emotional roller coaster ride of being a cancer patient, and the wife of a cancer patient, and the son or daughter, or a friend. While on the one hand we are dealing with this fight and all that it entails one day at a time, a certain amount of thought and planning must still be invested in what lies ahead. Chemotherapy was a scary thing before I started getting treatments, but now that I am traveling down that road it is not nearly so worrisome or daunting. Now a stem cell transplant is on the horizon, and with that thought comes fears and worries about the unknown path that lies ahead. But I know that many, many, many other people, just like me, have gone through transplants and are now living cancer free lives as a result. So if they can do it, so can I. And most importantly I know that my God will be with me every step of the way, so I have nothing to fear.
Some might ask why a transplant is required if the chemotherapy treatments have gotten the cancer into remission. A large part of the answer lies with the type of lymphoma that I have. Non-Hodgkin's Peripheral T-Cell Lymphoma NOS (Not Otherwise Specified) is a very aggressive form of the disease that is difficult to get into remission and, once in remission, it has an unacceptably high rate of recurrence. The clinical trial that I am participating in is a research study targeted at improving the rate of achieving remission. Remission really means "no signs" of the cancer, but is not a guarantee that there are not a few stray cancer cells still hiding out somewhere, waiting to cause trouble later. The transplant process involves giving high dose chemotherapy early on, which is far more destructive than regular chemo, and greatly improves the chances that any remaining cancer cells are destroyed. It still is not a guarantee but it does improve the odds of not having a recurrence. Since my form of lymphoma is so rare, only 340 cases last year worldwide, the experience with this specific type is very limited and the treatment protocol is not as refined as it someday will be. So we are simply trying to hedge our bets and go with the combination of treatments that will provide us the best odds in the longer term. My body is still strong, and that coupled with my faith and my team of prayer warriors, will see me through this ordeal.
This post is longer than most, but there is a lot to consider as we look at what is before us in the coming months. It is my hope that, in addition to keeping you up-to-date on my status, this may be helpful to others who may be on the same journey that I am on. This blog website gives me the ability to see where the viewers are from, and I see regular visits internationally, particularly from Russia. If I can somehow be a resource to help someone better cope with their own situation, I will consider that a blessing. That is why I have added a section with links to other blogs and informational websites. And if my faith and my belief in the power of God Almighty can help others learn to lean on Him, I will feel even more blessed.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Links to other blogs.
My chemo treatment last Tuesday went well. I don't feel any different after that treatment than I did before, and that is always a good sign. And even though I don't feel any different, I still believe that all those cancer cells are definitely feeling a lot different as they continue their life and death battle with that new dose of Pralatrexate. Go Pralatrexate!!
As I have mentioned before, I do a lot of reading these days and one of my favorites things to read are other blogs by people, just like me, who are either going through treatment therapies or have completed their treatment regimen and are getting on with their cancer-free lives. Their thoughts, their feelings, their concerns and their joys are things that I can relate to so closely. Just this morning I was reading a recent posting and thought how I would like to share that with others. Realistically I can't really copy all of those posts over here to my blog, so I got real adventuresome and figured out how to add links to other websites onto my blog. So if you look on the right side of my blog, just under my profile, you will see a section titled "Links to other blogs". One of my favorites is The Voice: A Christian cancer blog. Hopefully, these links will prove interesting to others, especially someone who is currently battling cancer and has somehow found my blog.
As I have mentioned before, I do a lot of reading these days and one of my favorites things to read are other blogs by people, just like me, who are either going through treatment therapies or have completed their treatment regimen and are getting on with their cancer-free lives. Their thoughts, their feelings, their concerns and their joys are things that I can relate to so closely. Just this morning I was reading a recent posting and thought how I would like to share that with others. Realistically I can't really copy all of those posts over here to my blog, so I got real adventuresome and figured out how to add links to other websites onto my blog. So if you look on the right side of my blog, just under my profile, you will see a section titled "Links to other blogs". One of my favorites is The Voice: A Christian cancer blog. Hopefully, these links will prove interesting to others, especially someone who is currently battling cancer and has somehow found my blog.
Monday, August 20, 2012
It is well.
Tomorrow is another treatment day at Duke so we will hitch the team and head up the road to see our world class medical team. Fortunately, the second part of my treatment cycle is not as intense as the first, as far as the impact on my body is concerned. Hopefully, the second part is even more intense than the first, as far as it's impact on my cancer is concerned. Tomorrow is the first of three consecutive Tuesdays of doctor visits and Pralatrexate infusions, with no other treatments mixed in between, and then I get a break for 2 weeks. That will complete my 2nd cycle of treatments and I will have several tests that will allow the doctors to assess my progress and determine the next steps. I have a lot of confidence that the test results will show that the disease is losing the fight and a couple more cycles of treatment is all we will need to get it in comploete remission. For all you prayer warriors out there, that is my prayer request and I'll take all the help I can get. We're going to beat this!
This afternoon the words to an old familiar hymn came to my mind and seem especially fitting. In the midst of this battle, which can leave many in the pits of worry and dispair, I have a blessed peace in my spirit. The first verse says it all:
This afternoon the words to an old familiar hymn came to my mind and seem especially fitting. In the midst of this battle, which can leave many in the pits of worry and dispair, I have a blessed peace in my spirit. The first verse says it all:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Looking back.
I have mentioned before that a few years ago I started researching the family trees for both Holly and me and I now have a bad case of addiction to genealogy. I enjoy spending hour upon hour on the Internet trying to turn up new details on our ancestors and even once in a while a whole new ancestor or two. It has been a good way for me to keep my mind occupied over these past few months when I didn't feel like doing much that involved physical exertion. Something that I try to determine is the cause of death for each individual. One was killed in the Civil War, one drowned and one was even kicked by a horse. But most of them died of more common and recognizable causes, including several who died from cancer. Back in the early 1800's, cancer was a known disease but there was not any real treatment available. All through the 19th century and most of the 20th, the patient likely suffered a slow and agonizing death. It wasn't until the latter part of the 1900's that the medical community began to develop cancer treatment techniques that could sometimes reverse and even cure the cancer. Unfortunately, in most cases the treatment was harder on the patient than the disease itself. I can remember, probably 50 years ago, going to visit an uncle who was dying at home from lung cancer. I remember, after the visit, asking my mother if it would be OK if I didn't go to visit my uncle again, because he was experiencing such terrible suffering that I couldn't bear to watch him that way.
Things have come a long way since then. Modern cancer treatments can sometimes still be debilitating and horrible, but many new drugs are far more effective at reducing or eliminating the awful side effects of chemotherapy. The medical research community is moving ever closer to finding cures for cancer and maybe even developing vaccines that will make it disappear, like polio or tuberculosis. What a glorious day that will be when our descendants can talk about cancer in the past tense. In the meantime, we work with what we have. We thank God that there are facilities like Duke Cancer Center, and that there are clinical research trials like the one that I am in, that are helping to find new ways to treat and eventually eradicate this ugly monster. Whether the disease is cancer or diabetes or kidney disease or meningitis, we are so fortunate to live in this time and place, and have access to the medical knowledge and facilities that are available to us. And even better, next Tuesday when I head to Duke for another treatment I won't have to harness the team and hook up the wagon. Praise the Lord!
Things have come a long way since then. Modern cancer treatments can sometimes still be debilitating and horrible, but many new drugs are far more effective at reducing or eliminating the awful side effects of chemotherapy. The medical research community is moving ever closer to finding cures for cancer and maybe even developing vaccines that will make it disappear, like polio or tuberculosis. What a glorious day that will be when our descendants can talk about cancer in the past tense. In the meantime, we work with what we have. We thank God that there are facilities like Duke Cancer Center, and that there are clinical research trials like the one that I am in, that are helping to find new ways to treat and eventually eradicate this ugly monster. Whether the disease is cancer or diabetes or kidney disease or meningitis, we are so fortunate to live in this time and place, and have access to the medical knowledge and facilities that are available to us. And even better, next Tuesday when I head to Duke for another treatment I won't have to harness the team and hook up the wagon. Praise the Lord!
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Better days.
I posted last Saturday that I was seemingly feeling the effects of my 3 chemo treatments last week. Well I am glad to report that I am doing much better, not that I was feeling all that poorly before. My energy level has returned and I don't feel like I need to take a nap all the time. I still haven't begun training to run a marathon yet but getting around isn't such a chore. I have decided that 3 heavy days of chemo just knock all the wind out of my sails and it takes several days before the drugs have run their course and my body can begin to rebuild. Fortunately I only have to endure that once every 7 weeks. The rest of the time I only have one less powerful drug infusion per week, with even a couple of weeks off mixed in. So the next 5 weeks should be more pleasant and we will deal with the future when it gets here. As I have said before, we are taking it one day at a time. And today is going well :-)
Monday, August 13, 2012
My morning walk.
That subject line "My morning walk" seems to come up a lot here but my morning walks are a special time for me. I addition to getting some exercise and fresh air, they give me a chance to just get quiet and reflect on things. This morning I was walking a bit slower since my chemo seems to have sapped some of my energy but I was noticing that I am feeling a bit better. Hopefully I am rebounding from my treatments last week and things will be improving each day.
This morning my thoughts alternated between how much the Lord has blessed me, and how I am so much more fortunate than so many other people. In His goodness and mercy the Lord has surrounded me with a wonderful family that loves and supports me, a safe and comfortable life that more than meets all my needs, a peace in times of trouble, a knowledge that He loves me and a belief that no matter what lies ahead He will be there with me. What more could I want?? And then I would think about some of the people I see each week in the chemo treatment center and how they are suffering, both physically and mentally. And there are those without enough to eat or without a place to live, or those in broken homes or relationships, or mired in deep dispair or depression, or in parts of the world where war rages daily. There are so many other places that I could be, that are so much worse than where I am, and I am so blessed and so fortunate to be out there walking around my neighborhood with my Lord. Oh how I enjoy those morning walks.
This morning my thoughts alternated between how much the Lord has blessed me, and how I am so much more fortunate than so many other people. In His goodness and mercy the Lord has surrounded me with a wonderful family that loves and supports me, a safe and comfortable life that more than meets all my needs, a peace in times of trouble, a knowledge that He loves me and a belief that no matter what lies ahead He will be there with me. What more could I want?? And then I would think about some of the people I see each week in the chemo treatment center and how they are suffering, both physically and mentally. And there are those without enough to eat or without a place to live, or those in broken homes or relationships, or mired in deep dispair or depression, or in parts of the world where war rages daily. There are so many other places that I could be, that are so much worse than where I am, and I am so blessed and so fortunate to be out there walking around my neighborhood with my Lord. Oh how I enjoy those morning walks.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Something different.
For reasons I am having some difficulty determining, this week has been more intense than earlier periods. While I am still feeling quite good in general, some little things seem to be creeping in here and there. Nothing big at all. In fact it seems more like a sense that something is a bit different although I just can't put my finger on it. Not even bad different, just different.
My new round of chemo treatments started Tuesday and lasted 3 days, followed by a shot here locally on Friday. The 3 trips to Duke involved 9+ hours of driving, followed by several hours sitting in waiting areas (don't you just love doctors offices). The chemo treatments took about 6 hours over the 3 days and involved transfusing about 2 liters (2 quarts) of chemotherapy drugs into my body. That was 2 liters of powerful and aggressive drugs designed to kill cancer cells in large numbers, with unfortunate collateral damage to other fast growing "good" cells. Add to that 400 mg of prednisone, acting as an immune system suppressant, and I can't even begin to imagine what must be going on inside my body right now. So I guess if I'm feeling a wee bit different than normal, it shouldn't come as a big surprise. I am told that chemotherapy can, not necessarily will, have a cumulative effect on the body. But I thank the Lord daily that I am able to withstand the side effects so well. I seem a bit more tired this week but an extra nap or two may be just what the doctor ordered.
As I have said before, this blog will reflect both my good days and my not so good days. Up until now I would say that just about all of my days have been good or better. So a few bad days were bound to creep in there somewhere. I have every faith that in a few more days, when the drugs and their effects have had a chance to run their course, I will be back to where I was before. Life itself has it's good days and it's not so good days and we all need to find ways to weather the bad and rejoice in the good. Deep down in the core of my inner most being, where my soul and spirit dwell along with The Holy Spirit, I still believe that I am going to beat this, regardless of how I may feel from one day to the next. My God is far greater than a few lousy cancer cells.
My new round of chemo treatments started Tuesday and lasted 3 days, followed by a shot here locally on Friday. The 3 trips to Duke involved 9+ hours of driving, followed by several hours sitting in waiting areas (don't you just love doctors offices). The chemo treatments took about 6 hours over the 3 days and involved transfusing about 2 liters (2 quarts) of chemotherapy drugs into my body. That was 2 liters of powerful and aggressive drugs designed to kill cancer cells in large numbers, with unfortunate collateral damage to other fast growing "good" cells. Add to that 400 mg of prednisone, acting as an immune system suppressant, and I can't even begin to imagine what must be going on inside my body right now. So I guess if I'm feeling a wee bit different than normal, it shouldn't come as a big surprise. I am told that chemotherapy can, not necessarily will, have a cumulative effect on the body. But I thank the Lord daily that I am able to withstand the side effects so well. I seem a bit more tired this week but an extra nap or two may be just what the doctor ordered.
As I have said before, this blog will reflect both my good days and my not so good days. Up until now I would say that just about all of my days have been good or better. So a few bad days were bound to creep in there somewhere. I have every faith that in a few more days, when the drugs and their effects have had a chance to run their course, I will be back to where I was before. Life itself has it's good days and it's not so good days and we all need to find ways to weather the bad and rejoice in the good. Deep down in the core of my inner most being, where my soul and spirit dwell along with The Holy Spirit, I still believe that I am going to beat this, regardless of how I may feel from one day to the next. My God is far greater than a few lousy cancer cells.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Today's thought.
I received a card in the mail today that included the following thought, which is so true.
There's a wonderful peace
in knowing
that our Lord is always there
watching over us
with boundless love,
keeping us in His care.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Round 2.
This coming Tuesday marks the beginning of the 2nd cycle of my chemo treatments. Hard to believe it has been 7 weeks since I started the 1st cycle. I have learned so much during that time. Not only have I read and learned a lot about Non Hodgkins Peripheral T Cell Lymphoma, I have also absorbed an amazing volume of information about chemotherapy and about a list of chemicals that are hard to spell and even harder to pronounce. I have also learned how my body reacts to those chemicals and I thank my Lord and Savior that those reactions thus far have been very few and very mild. What little hair I had has mostly disappeared and I am sure that cycle 2 will finish off what is left. And I get fatigued relatively quickly, which is always a good excuse for an afternoon nap. But other than that, and a few days of sores in my mouth, which went away quickly, I am otherwise free of the list of side effects normally associated with chemotherapy.
That is why I can honestly say I am anxious to get started with my next round of treatments. This cancer will not go away by itself and being sure I am getting regular and timely treatments is my ticket to getting it into remission. We will be traveling to Duke on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and the 1 1/2 hour drive, each way, is not especially enjoyable but it does give us time to talk and listen to a few CD's. Tuesday is the longest day, including blood work, a meeting with the doctor and then about 4 hours getting the actual treatment itself. For those with degrees in pharmacology, I will receive 3 IV infusions, including cyclophosphamide, vincristine sulfate and etoposide. Wednesday and Thursday are just treatments days, lasting about 2 hours each and I only receive the etoposide. Then on Friday I go to a local oncologist to receive a Neulasta shot, which helps boost my white blood cell count. I top it all off with 4 days of prednisone tablets (Wed through Sat) and that completes the first phase of my cycle, followed by a week of rest. Now doesn't that sound like something to get excited about? I can hardly wait to get started :-) Bring it on!
P.S. Sorry if I am providing more chemical/drug information than most of you need or care about, but I think there are a few readers who have more than a passing interest in the details.
That is why I can honestly say I am anxious to get started with my next round of treatments. This cancer will not go away by itself and being sure I am getting regular and timely treatments is my ticket to getting it into remission. We will be traveling to Duke on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and the 1 1/2 hour drive, each way, is not especially enjoyable but it does give us time to talk and listen to a few CD's. Tuesday is the longest day, including blood work, a meeting with the doctor and then about 4 hours getting the actual treatment itself. For those with degrees in pharmacology, I will receive 3 IV infusions, including cyclophosphamide, vincristine sulfate and etoposide. Wednesday and Thursday are just treatments days, lasting about 2 hours each and I only receive the etoposide. Then on Friday I go to a local oncologist to receive a Neulasta shot, which helps boost my white blood cell count. I top it all off with 4 days of prednisone tablets (Wed through Sat) and that completes the first phase of my cycle, followed by a week of rest. Now doesn't that sound like something to get excited about? I can hardly wait to get started :-) Bring it on!
P.S. Sorry if I am providing more chemical/drug information than most of you need or care about, but I think there are a few readers who have more than a passing interest in the details.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Comments
I have heard that there are several people who would like to leave a comment but have experienced difficulty. The easiest way I know is to click on the red "___ comments" at the bottom of the post, which will take you to a comment screen. Enter our comment and your name (optional). Then where it says "Comment as: _______" select Anonymous and then select Publish. Your comment should then post.
Sorry for the difficulties but I didn't design the website or I would have made it simpler.
Sorry for the difficulties but I didn't design the website or I would have made it simpler.
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